


A Century of Savvy Travelers: A Look Back at the GSST Project, 100 Years On

by lalalalalawhy



Category: NASA "Visions of the Future" Travel Posters
Genre: Academia, Aliens, Bureaucracy, Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas Space AU, Gen, Near Future, Science Fiction, Travel, Worldbuilding, Worldbuilding: Europan Life (NASA Visions of the Future posters) - Freeform, Worldbuilding: PSO J318.5-22 Settlement (NASA Visions of the Future posters) - Freeform, Worldbuilding: Venus Cloud Settlement (NASA Visions of the Future posters) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:09:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalalalawhy/pseuds/lalalalalawhy
Summary: Collectively known as the Guides for the Savvy Space Traveler (GSST), the series represented a huge endeavor of human talent, time, and treasure, and a unique record of humanity at the very cusp of a new age.





	1. Introduction: A Word from the Editors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ExtraPenguin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtraPenguin/gifts).



From _Journal of the History and Anthropology of Early Space, Volume 22, Number 4 | December 2201: A Bicentennial Celebration of Space Tourism_

* * *

A mere 300 years ago, human life was lived in two dimensions. It seems foolish, now, but most of human existence was limited to roughly two and a half meters above the surface of the Earth. Certainly, one could get technical -- we had, by that point, figured out ladders, for instance. Trees existed, and so long as there are young people, trees will be climbed. But the clouds, the stars, the moon, the planets, the sky above? These were out of reach, above our heads, seen but not examined.

In the 20th century, that all changed. From the first airplane flights to the first human experience of leaving Earth's gravity, we humans accelerated our grasp of the universe, technologically, scientifically, and recreationally.

It is amazing now to look back on this time. We humans had so little back then: only the resources of our one planet. We only the resources of a single planet, and yet, we reached for the stars above.

In the 20th century, space travel was largely monopolized by national governments: the United States of America, the Soviet Union and later Russia, and other governmental players had the majority of control over who made it to space. It was simple: They held the rockets.

In the early 21st century, a new industry sprang up, destined to change everything. Private companies such as SpaceX, Final Frontier Technologies, and StarReach, Inc. arose, making successful and operational rockets that could make the trip into space. A mere 200 years ago, Dennis Tito became the first-ever official space tourist, paying $20 million in 2001 USD (worth roughly $6.3 billion now) to visit low earth orbit.

With a trip beyond the atmosphere suddenly available to citizens with the cash to pay for it, the institution of space tourism began in earnest in the middle of the 21st century. At first, the flights were few and costly, allowing only the wealthiest citizens to experience freedom from the bonds of Earth’s gravity. As the technology developed and costs fell, the proverbial Final Frontier became available to more and more citizens. Eventually, nearly everyone could afford an expedition to somewhere in the Solar System, to see them for ourselves, up close and shining bright.

This issue of the _Journal_ concentrates on the 200-year history of space tourism and its role in creating the modern universe. Before we dig in, however, the Editors of the Journal wanted to highlight one of our favorite under-acknowledged pieces of space tourism ephemera and a useful frame for the era: the _Guides for the Savvy Space Traveler_.

The first space tourism boom lasted only a few decades before the collapse of the Earth’s economy. As national borders dissolved and our home planet became increasingly hostile, space tourism became space colonization. Backed by corporations hoping to strike it rich somewhere else, people began leaving the planet in droves, trusting the promise of a solid job in construction on the moon, engineering on Venus, or mining Mars. Corporations had the rockets now, and many Earthlings left everything behind to start a new life among the stars.

We now know this time as the Great Colonization, and with it came the founding of many of the locales we know and love today: Moon Bases One and Two, Mars Domes 1-5, and the construction of Aether, the first cloud city on Venus.

Over the next few decades, the establishment of these colonies, and the colonies that came soon after (Aventine City on Jupiter, New Haukadalur on Enceladus, and many others) began paying off. Natural resources flooded our home planet, allowing for the rise once more of peace and prosperity and giving the newly formed economy of Earth United a much-needed boost. But many Earthlings, especially creatives, remained unemployed. This crisis of creativity led several attempts by the world government to both employ out-of-work Earthling creators -- writers, videographers, artists, and photographers -- and create instances of cross-cultural communication between Earth and the largely independent colonies.

One of these was the Galactic Space Tourism Board (GSTB), founded in 2101: a quasi-governmental organization based on Earth. It was one of the more successful governmental programs, succeeding at decreasing unemployment as well as encouraging Earth-based economic activity through a revitalization of space tourism. The GSTB’s first project was to produce a series of travel guides, for Earthlings, by Earthlings.

Collectively known as the _Guides for the Savvy Space Traveller_ (GSST or simply “the Guides”), the series represented a huge endeavor of human talent, time, and treasure. It was also instrumental in realigning the newly disparate cultures of Earth and Outer Space with a piece of common culture.

The project lasted from 2101 to 2112 under the purview of the GSTB, publishing 23 Guides for 23 distinct locales spanning from the Moon to Deep Space. Under the GSTB, each Guide was organized similarly, beginning with a General Information section, followed by a section full of essays describing different colonies, cities, or areas of interest, and ending with several suggested itineraries a traveler could use to plan a trip. Most volumes were compiled by several authors, though some, like _The Savvy Space Traveller’s Guide to Europa,_ were compiled by a single writer. The Guides were published without giving attribution to the authors who wrote them, but the GSTB is responsible for launching the careers of several of the most famous authors of the early 22nd century, including two excerpted here: Iolana Hokulani and Fatimah Ramesh.

Now, exactly a century on, the GSST project is the best snapshot we have of life in those early colonies: the pitfalls, the triumphs, the sights and sounds, of early space colonization. For those of us reading them a century on, they are a unique record of humanity at the very cusp of a new age. Local culture, food, festivals, and traditions played a central role in each of the Guides, adjacent to descriptions of atmospheric conditions and what accommodations a weary traveler might expect.

In this editorial, we've excerpted three sections from three different Guides. First, from _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Venus_ , a description of watching the Mercury transit from the Venus Cloud Settlement. From _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Deep Space_ , a paean to sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll told through the medium of a short trip to the infamous and always-open casino city known alternately as Zook Zook, Jira, New Las Vegas, New Old Las Vegas, and Lost Vegas, on the Rogue Planet PSO J318.5-22, where all of life was a gamble (now it is known as nothing; PSO J318.5-22 has been a ghost town since at least 2174). Finally, from _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Europa_ , a tale of, if not first contact, then certainly early contact, with the Beings of Europa.

Most of the Guides were written as straight travel guides, to be narrated from a distance. The excerpt from author Fatimah Ramesh in _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Venus_ is a good example of the general style of the Guides. Her description of a major cultural event, the transit of Mercury, is included in the essays section of the Guide. It is interesting to note, however, that Ramesh assumes any visitor would have a chance to see the Mercury Transit; unfortunately, the truly savvy space traveler will be aware that the Mercury Transit only happens slightly more often from Venus than it does from Earth.

In contrast to most other guides, in the excerpt from _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Deep Space,_ the author, Zhang Wei uses first person narrative to insert himself into the story. Taking inspiration from a twentieth-century Earth journalist, (the title is derived from Hunter S. Thompson’s work, _Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas_ ), Zhang embraces the dual role of writer and main character.

We have not been able to find an explanation for such a stark stylistic departure, but the Deep Space edition is different from many of the other volumes of the GSST. As the main author of the Deep Space Guide, Zhang was the only author experiencing the new phenomenon of hypersleep. Additionally, this edition was the final Guide produced in the GSST series -- by that point, the GSTB administration was likely in talks with the Unlonely Planets corporation, which would take over publication of the Guides in late 2112.

The Deep Space Guide was the least useful of the series: with the edges of traversable space simultaneously so difficult to reach and experiencing such cultural upheavals, the Guide consists only of Zhang’s essays without any suggested itineraries for travelers, making it less a travel guide and more a travel narrative. That said, Zhang’s exploits are just plain entertaining, as you will surely note.

For the modern reader, one of the most interesting excerpts from the Guides is also one of the shortest pieces: “‘Whale Watching’ on Europa,” excerpted here. In the time that Iolana Hokulani was writing _The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to Europa_ , Europa was a brand new colony. Avallaktuk, the major port for offworld travelers and main city on the Jupiterian moon had been established only eight months prior to Hokulani’s arrival. There was no way she could have known what we now know about the intelligence and cultural norms of the Beings.

“Whale watching” in the title refers to large, intelligent, earthbound aquatic mammals in whose company humans on Earth would spent countless hours. In the piece, she also mentions their likeness to “jellyfish,” which are similar only in shape.

In terms of animals found on Earth, we now know that the Beings are closer to hyper-intelligent schools of fish or bee colonies than whales, which nobody at the time could have known. At the time Hokulani was writing, nobody had communicated with any Beings at all. These rules of proper comportment she sets out for interacting with the Beings, then, are based on faulty assumptions. But their general thrust -- that it is wise to be respectful of the space of others and not to make assumptions about their level of understanding of humanity -- helped create a solid foundation once leaders from both sides were able to open formal communications.

Knowing what we know about the ever-evolving relationship between Beings and humanity (and how close it has come to actual warfare more than once), it is best to keep in mind that this passage was written, or rather, tucked into the “General Information” section at the beginning of the Europan Guide, a century ago, before the travel ban. Although the Beings have been accepting tourists onto Europa for more than a decade and a half now, today’s savvy space traveler should note this passage reflects outdated notions of cultural exchange. We also must give thanks, however, that it was Hokulani, and those who would follow her, that led our first introduction to the Beings.

Ultimately, we hope this inspires you to pick up the nearest copy of any GSTB Guide for the Savvy Space Traveler. Though old they may be, boring they are not, and they are essential to any study of early colonization. Unsure of where to find one? Ask your friendly local librarian!

_-Dr. Ajax Sara, Dr. Tupaarnac Itzqual, and Dr. Ramona Ebele_


	2. “I’m on Cloud Nine”: The Mercury Transit as Seen from Venus

_ By Fatimah Ramesh  _

Venus is hell. 

That’s the saying on Earth, at least. The clouds are made of sulfuric acid, the rain is made of same, and the snow is metal. It's too hot. Human life cannot survive without significant mechanical support.

All of this is true, but so is this: Venus is hell only to those who have not been.

The ride through the thick Venusian atmosphere can be bumpy, but the landing is often smooth. Step out into the sunlight -- it is always sunny upon landing, as daytime lasts half of a Venusian year. It is always the Golden Hour here: that hour on Earth just before twilight as the sun bathes everything in light the color of honey. The outlines of things are sharper; the colors are softer but more bright, an Art Deco palette of dusky roses, sage greens, juniper blues, and terra-cotta red. 

If you are lucky, it will snow upon your visit, galena and bismuthinite flakes floating down like so much glitter from heaven.

Every Venusian is safe inside their climate-controlled cool-suit, but people are people, and they will remark about the weather. “Hot enough to fry a steak out here,” is a phrase a traveller may hear, spoken in resigned tones at every planetside street corner, though steaks are best cooked at fully half the temperature of the surface of Venus, and most of the Venusian population has never seen a cow in their natural lives. A steak fried on Venusian soil would likely end up charred, as well as inedible due to the high sulfur content of the atmosphere -- imagine what the fate of a living cow might be. 

If you are able, be sure to catch the Mercury Transit from the Cloud 9 Observatory, floating above Aether, the largest city on the surface of Venus. It is a popular event, leading many observers begin to queue several hours before the elevator leading up to the Observatory even begins its work for the event. Several enterprising Venusians take the opportunity to sell special “viewing goggles” and other bric-a-brac to those in line, decorated with the date of the event. 

Once arrived on the Observatory, a visitor can see most of the clouds of Venus laid out below, tinged like golden-pink peaches and cream. The atmosphere is thinner outside the floating platform, but the golden-pinkish tinge remains, causing the sun, visible through the geodescent domed glass, to shine with a pearlescent light. 

Unlike on Earth, the transit of Mercury can be seen from the Cloud 9 Observatory with the naked eye, thanks to the the planet’s unique atmospheric makeup and special tinting of the dome’s glass. For those citizens and tourists unable to make it to Cloud 9, there are other, less well-decorated floating observatory platforms. Several civic buildings, including the Aether Central Library, The Musée d'Art et Tapisserie, and City Hall are topped with glass domes similar to those of the floating observatories and are open to the public that they may observe the transit from the comfort of indoors. 

Anyone may also lay out a fire-retardant picnic blanket underneath a floating Observatory and watch as the Transit is broadcast on the underside. With three Observatories visible from anywhere within Aether, this is a very satisfactory option, especially for families with young children.

Under the protective glass of the Cloud 9 Observatory, onlookers are able to remove their outer protective layers and view the Transit wearing whatever they please. Many dress to impress, wearing colors that compliment the pinks and oranges of the view outside: tailored suits and loose-fitting dresses of minty green, dusky blue, and lavender can all be observed. The citizens of Venus are very fashionable when they can be, and the dresses especially are often decorated with tassels made of glass beads, lace details, or tiny embroidered flowers. Some even wear elaborate tiaras atop their heads or interwoven in their beards, adorned with geometric patterns.

The state-of-the-art automatons staffing the Cloud 9 Observatory are decorated in warm tones reminiscent of rich woods on Earth: mahogany, deep cherry, red oak, and soft maple humanoid robots wander among the gathered crowd, offering trays of drinks and food to delighted patrons. These clockwork men run on a completely independent power source, but it does mean they must be wound once an hour while in use. You may catch a glimpse of the Keeper of the Keys, one of the few staff positions on Cloud 9 Observatory held by a human. The Keeper walks from automaton to automaton, discreetly winding their inner workings. 

The food on offer at the Cloud 9 Observatory includes such Earth delicacies as champagne and caviar, as well as such Venusian specialties as sunchoke cardoon au gratin on toast topped with flaming hot cheeto dust. There are flavors enough to delight a gastronome of any background. 

When Mercury begins to crest the outer ring of the sun, the crowd suddenly stops chit chatting and all present turn as one to gaze upon the sight of the Transit. This silent reverence lasts for approximately five minutes, until such time as the planet is completely within the sun’s aurora. Slowly, the assembled begin to chatter once more, quieter now, though, more reverent, gazes returning again and again to the path of the planet within star’s shining light.

This goes on for hours, and eventually the guests seat themselves or lie down on light blankets provided by the automatons. Their electric excitement turns to languid enjoyment of the atmosphere, the rosy haze, and the company of one another.

When the transit is complete and the sun dips below the horizon, the guests file out of the Cloud 9 Observatory, changing back into their cooling suits as they go. Perhaps it will be snowing as you leave, and perhaps the artificial lights shining down from the observatory above will set the flurries of metal flakes to sparkling as you catch them in your hand in wonder. Perhaps you will sleep soundly that night, dreams full of peaches and cream, lilac and rose, glittering snow and clockwork attendants, offering you a final hot cheeto for the road. 

  
_ Fatimah Ramesh went on to have a long and successful writing career, including a series of noir mystery novels set in the early years of Aether and Zephyr, the two earliest Venusian Cloud Settlements. The Cloud 9 Observatory fell into disrepair in the mid-22nd century, but has since been restored to its former glory. These days, a tourist may observe many phenomena, including the Mercury Transit, from the deck of the Cloud 9 Observatory, refurbished to its former glory and established landmark of important Venusian history in 2170, just as Ramesh did a century ago. Venus is still considered the top destination to view the phenomenon, and the Transit is still celebrated regularly in much the same way as Ramesh writes here (though it only occurs about once every decade). -AS _


	3. Fear and Loathing on the Rogue Planet: A Fraught Journey to the Edge of Space

_By Zhang Wei_

We were somewhere around the Beta Pictoris Moving Group on the edge of known space when I came out of hypersleep. Suddenly there was a terrible noise all around our small craft and the sky was full of what looked like huge space bats, all snarling and swooping around the craft, which was going about a lightyear an hour, which wasn’t hyperspeed but was damn fast. A voice was screaming: “Fuck! What are those fuckers?”

It was me. Coming out of hypersleep is a hell of a drug.

I took the wakey dose and tried to figure out what the hell day it was. A month ago and a hundred lightyears back I was at the water stop at Ceres with nothing more than two bottles of rapidly-evaporating water when I got a new assignment: Deep Space. Rogue Planet. Some sort of casino with the greatest odds ever.

I ran up to the nearest person to tell them the good news. It was Eli, on her way back from a Europa tour, drinking straight bourbon she’d smuggled all the way from Earth. She’d had enough of water on that moon, she said, and was drinking liquor from now on. I couldn’t blame her.

None of the writers had gotten assignments for more than a year, and we were all doing what we could on the edges of the galaxy to make ends meet. I had gone to HQ myself to ask what was what on my visit to the Moon a few months back. I was all set to shout down my editor, but before I could buzz myself in faceless people in gray suits started streaming out of the office building, shepherded by none other than the man himself. Sam, if you’re reading this, fuck you and fuck whoever those fuckoffs were. Of course he never saw me. I ducked into the bushes before he could.

Two lonesome, lean months later, and I got the Deep Space assignment. Half a suicide note, half contracted hit, if I had to guess.

“Listen,” Eli said, when I told her we’d probably end up dying in the cold clutches of far space, stuck haunting a whole lot of nothing forevermore with nobody but our own selves for company, “the tech’s better now, even though hypersleep’s still a bitch. We get ourselves a little two-man craft here, we do some specified mods, tell HQ we bought it new, they transfer the credits and we’ll have enough bourbon and beef jerky to last weeks.”

I did miss the taste of real meat.

“Can we paint it red?” I asked.

“Hell yes we can paint it red,” she said.

“Then we’d be fools not to ride this rocket ship all the way out to the end,” I said, and we shook on it.

HQ didn’t specify that this was a two-man gig, but when I said I had a pilot they let it slide (thanks, Sam). I didn’t tell them who, and Eli didn’t tell me she was a wanted woman in at least three jurisdictions. Every now and then when your life gets complicated and the weasels start closing in, the only cure is to load up on processed meat and booze and take off for the edges of space as quick as you can.

Eli punched in the coordinates and we took our hypersleep tablets, pounding as much liquor as we could before they kicked in.

The hangover was not pleasant. Even a month later my head pounded and my tongue was dry and thick. No time to focus on that, though, as we were attacked by the huge space bats. I grabbed the controls of the ship and began jerking them, weaving and dodging around the goddamn creatures.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eli yelled, wrenching the controls back. “I’m the pilot, and you’re messing up my hyperdrive!”

I didn’t mention the bats. She’d see them soon enough.

“Where the fuck did you bring me?” Eli asked, stepping out of the ship and onto the surface of the planet.

“Excuse me, you are the pilot. You brought me here.”

Here is something you learn within an hour of landing planetside: the sun, good old Sol, our favorite star in the sky, is the only thing keeping humanity from going completely and utterly off the rails of sanity.

You may be aware of folks who have lost a little bit of touch with reality, or who supplement their experiences with an elixir of narcotics and hard living, but there is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a human who hasn't seen the sun in more than a week.

Not even ether.

I say three months, but all of time is a construction based on our interaction with our star and the orbit around it. We’ve made it into a commodity: we save time, spend time, buy time, waste time. Time is all we have, and yet, without any sun to cement any sort of circadian rhythms the bats fly down screaming from the sky and perch in your head right behind your eyeballs.

It didn’t matter that I’d grown up on the Moon. It didn’t matter that I’ve only visited Earth on occasion. My monkey brain was convinced that the sun was gone forever, and all of the apocalypse stories my ancestors had ever told were coming true all at once.

The sky above was an open maw, and the ground below offered little reassurance.

Instead of sunshine, the glinting lights of a casino flickered in the distance. The stars danced above, but they were so far away. Everything else was dark, so dark.

I pretended to toss my keys to a nonexistent valet. “Not a scratch,” I said, my tone a warning.

Eli turned at the sound of the keys hitting the alien dirt, and then gave me a look. Eli can give a lot of looks that mean a lot of things, but this one meant, “Pick those up, you idiot.” I did.

There was nowhere else in the world to go, so we started walking toward the casino. The trip took approximately eternity, and without any shadows to judge the passage of time or distance, nobody can prove me otherwise.

“It’s the same as being in a cave,” Eli said.

“Huh?”

“In a cave you can’t tell how far or close anything is,” she said, “because there’s no horizon. There’s a horizon here,” she gestured all around, “but it’s _wrong._ ”

“Yeah.” It was wrong, too far and too close at the same time.

The casino crept closer, still in the distance.

“Why didn’t you park closer?” Eli asked. I changed the subject.

Eventually, the casino loomed large and bright -- so bright it hurt our eyes. I put one hand up to my suit’s helmet to try and shield my eyes as we walked closer.

“Hoooooo, boy, what do we have here?” screeched a voice to our left, and Eli and I both jumped out of our skins. He was the first other living creature we’d seen on the planet: a moon faced man, pale with angry red splotches on his cheeks and a smile too wide for his face. He stood six feet tall and wearing a suit that was meant for someone three inches shorter, and he walked like he resented the forced slouch.

He tried to sling an arm around each of our necks, but Eli was too fast for him, ducking just in time. I was sluggish and slow, and his heavy arm caught me and locked me into a headlock.

“You lot are from offworld!” he said, far too loudly and in a performative American accent that hadn’t existed for more than fifty years now. Our suits could transmit anyone’s voice the same as if they weren’t wearing a helmet, but he insisted on shouting right into our ears. “I can tell you ain’t from around these parts.”

He squeezed my shoulders even closer to his, and Eli and I shared a look. This time, hers said, “Get out of there in thirty seconds or I’m leaving you for dead.” I did my best to duck under his arm.

“Now, where you think you’re going? What’s your name anyway? And where are you from?” he yelled. Spittle flecked the inside of his helmet.

“Name’s Zhang Wei,” I said, choosing the easiest question to answer.

“John Wayne!? What kind of name is that for one of you?” he yelled, and let out a bellowing laugh. He let go of me to slap his thighs, and I took the opportunity to bolt. From what my parents told me growing up, the New Colonies are overall less racist than earth was. Still, there are some constants in life: dough-faced bigots will always exist, even where the sun don’t shine.

As soon as the airlock closed on the casino and Eli and I removed our helmets, the sensory overload began. Outside was a darkened wasteland, inside was a cacophony of sound and flashing lights. Colors strobed in and out and the sound of coins dropping into metal trays permeated even the changing room.

We stepped out onto the casino floor and a kaleidoscope of human flesh, shiny chrome, bright neon, and pulsing sound. There were hundreds of humans, in all manners of dress and undress, entertaining themselves as though there were no tomorrow.

Have you ever been to Singapore in the 1850s? Valparaiso in the 1880s? Shanghai in the 1930s? Las Vegas in the 1980s? Aether in the 2030s? Neither have I. But imagine everything you’ve ever heard about living a hard scrabble life on the very edge of civilization, and put it as far away from anything else as you can be. That might give you an inkling of what this place was like.

“ABANDON ALL ABANDON ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE” read a spinning sign in a shining blue font that made my eyes hurt. I leaned over to ask Eli if she thought it was a typo, but she was gone, whirling away toward some earthly delight.

I grabbed a neon green drink off a tray as it flew past on its way to one of the gambling tables. It spun to scold me, giving me an opportunity to grab another and down it as well. It seemed to be some concoction of alcohol and stimulant, the combination of which left my eyes droopy but my brain wired.

I crossed the room, brushing off the entreaties of various gambling robots and partiers, and pulled Eli out of a clutch of naked people who were stroking her hair. She gave me a look like she might murder me.

“What?” she asked.

“The assignment?” I said, gesturing.

“Baby boy, listen to me very closely,” she said. “If you get in my way of this,” gesturing back at the pouting naked people, “which is _my assignment right now_ , I will leave you here to rot on the edges of space.” She turned and threw her arms in the air, and was welcomed back into the throng as though nothing had happened.

“Fine!” I yelled after her. “Take notes!”

She didn’t even bother glaring at me.

“Hey there handsome.” A man with no shirt suddenly appeared to my left, speaking into my ear. I flinched. “Care to have some real fun?”

“Sure,” I said, throwing up my hands.

He led me back across the casino floor, past the blackjack and poker and Baccarat, past the one-armed bandits and automaton dealers and all the way back to the changing room, where we got back into our suits.

Outside, he led me halfway around the building, probably looking for a good spot for a murder, I thought. He stopped in front of two wide cylinders lying flat on the ground, three feet tall and five feet in diameter.

“This,” he said, levering the cylinder up onto its side. “In there is just noise. This is the real fun.”

Inside each cylinder was a small seat and a joystick controller. While I was looking at the controls, he had already gotten into his, and was gesturing at me to get in.

“Press ‘E’ to go,” he said.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” I yelled, but he was already gone. The race was on.

_Little is known of Zhang Wei’s life after this account. He stopped working for the GSST after the publication of this work and largely disappeared from cultural consciousness. Government records indicate that he eventually married a man named Kweko Neo, though it is unknown whether he is the shirtless man mentioned in this narrative. Eli, whose full name is never mentioned in the narrative, remains unknown to this day. -TI_


	4. “Whale Watching” on Europa

_By Iolana Hokulani_

**Suggestions for visitors to populated areas:** Several of the oceans are home to “Europan Whales”: huge, bioluminescent beings with long tentacles that look like enormous jellyfish. Not much is known about these creatures, but visitors should keep in mind that we are the foreigners here, act accordingly. Visitors should not attempt to use flash photography with the whales, or enter their areas of the ocean without proper protection. At this time, we are unable to communicate with them.

Never assume, however, that they lack intelligence or understanding of human speech. They have been known to react to humans with curiosity, but have displayed aggression when approached with negativity. Diver: beware.

It is best to treat these creatures as we treat our Earth Whales: with admiration from a distance. A whalewatching trip is most pleasant, whether on Earth or Europa.

Any courteous person is safe in the oceans of Europa.

_Iolana Hokulani returned to her native Earth and the island of Hawaii after writing nearly all of the Europan guidebook. The most famous of the GSST authors, her later work turned largely to natural poetry, nearly all of it involving meditations on the Pacific Ocean. She and her wife collaborated on several best-selling works of lyrical fiction, one of which, we should note, was the first book ever to be translated into Being-speak.  -RE_


	5. APPENDIX: A timeline of early space history, focusing on tourism

  * 1610: First telescopic observation of the night sky; Discovery of Jupiter's moons.
  * 1903: First mechanical flight on earth.
  * 1961: First human spaceflight (Yuri Gagarin). 
  * 1966: First humans land on the Moon (Neil Armstrong, Buzz Aldrin).
  * 1971: Construction of first space station.
  * 1984: First non-government-employed astronaut in space (Chris D. Walker, working for an aerospace technology contractor with the USA government).
  * 1986: First civilian in space (Christa McAuliffe, who dies tragically when the spacecraft explodes on reentry).
  * 1998: Founding of Space Adventures, first private company devoted to space tourism.
  * 2001: First space tourist (Dennis Tito, USA millionaire, pays his way onto the International Space Station. Ticket cost: $20 million, equal to $6.3 billion today).
  * 2018: Private spaceflight beats governments to Mars.
  * 2020: Establishment of regularly scheduled SpaceX flights between Earth and the Moon, departing twice a month and lasting 10 days.
  * 2022: Collapse of Earth’s economy, Great Colonization begins. Construction begun on Moon Bases One and Two.
  * 2028: Mars Domes 1 and 2 completed, construction begun on 3-5.
  * 2030: Foundation of Aether, the first cloud city on Venus. Beginning of construction boom.
  * 2031: Construction begins on Aventine City on Jupiter and New Haukadalur on Enceladus.
  * 2033: Venus declares independence from Earth. Other colonies (except Moon Bases One and Two) follow suit.
  * 2040: Population in space exceeds population of Earth.
  * 2042: Government of Earth United established. First President of Earth United, Malia Obama, elected.
  * 2045: Personal spacecraft cost drops to average Earth citizen’s one-year salary.
  * 2049: Ceres Yinying Water Stop established.
  * 2050: Establishment of Galactic Interplanetary System of Byways.
  * 2061: Galaxy-famous luxury hotel Jumeirah established on the banks of Titan’s Kraken Mare.
  * 2086: Hypersleep technology allows for trips of greater distances.
  * 2087: First colonies launched to exoplanets.
  * 2089: Parhelion City founded on Kepler 16b.
  * 2091: Induli Bomvu founded on Kepler 186f.
  * 2099: First reference to Casino City.
  * 2101: Foundation of Galactic Space Tourism Board.
  * 2102: First Guide for the Savvy Space Traveler published _(The Savvy Space Traveler’s Guide to the Moon_ ).
  * 2105: Establishment of Avallaktuk on Europa; (possible?) discovery of Beings.
  * 2112: Galactic Space Tourism Board disbands; resources purchased by Unlonely Planets, Inc.
  * 2120: First annual survey by Unlonely Planets says more than 75% of Earthlings “have traveled off-planet or plan to travel off-planet.” More than 15% of humans not born on Earth have traveled to earth. 
  * 2125: Earth United offers “Homecoming,” an all-expenses paid trip to earth for every human between ages of 20 and 25.
  * 2133: Full extent of Beings’ intelligence finally realized, all travel to Europa suspended.
  * 2174: All of PSO J318.5-22 reported deserted; no signs of life. Later retrieval teams report only deserted structures declared unsafe for access. All travel suspended. 
  * 2185: Successful diplomatic negotiations with the Beings of Europa; some tourism allowed. Visitors must submit application six months in advance of travel. 



**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my beta readers, glorious_clio and Morbane. Any remaining errors are mine alone.
> 
> More notes on specifics available [here](https://theshehulkproject.tumblr.com/post/159612369607/a-century-of-savvy-travelers-a-look-back-at-the).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] A Century of Savvy Travelers: A Look Back at the GSST Project, 100 Years On](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868350) by [sisi_rambles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sisi_rambles/pseuds/sisi_rambles)




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